


give it up to me

by stilinskisderek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (so many feelings), Bottom Derek, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Top Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13033875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskisderek/pseuds/stilinskisderek
Summary: Stiles knows what he needs. He always does.





	give it up to me

Stiles shouldn't be surprised at the sight of Derek seated at the edge of his bed, fingers locked over the space between his parted thighs, head bowed. He isn't. Not really.

The only reason he is slightly surprised is because Derek's been absent around town for almost two weeks. He's fully aware of why, had called Derek to let him know that if he needed anything, he was there for him.

Given the reason for his sudden disappearance, Stiles had suspected he'd show up eventually, not this soon, but eventually.

Derek's eyes look tired as they bore into his own. His facial hair has lengthened past stubble, almost a beard, almost. The hair atop his head hasn't been groomed for a few days, at least, washed but not styled or even combed through. He's wearing a worn henley with faded blue jeans, leather jacket nowhere to be found.

He looks as mesmerizing as he always does.

He looks relaxed but exhausted at the same time which baffles Stiles but he fails to speak on it as he drops the towel he was using to dry his hair and approaches Derek.

His hair's still damp from his shower, slightly wavy with some matted on his forehead and his skin glistens with water, small drops still running down his chest and abdomen, disappearing under the hem of his boxer briefs. Stiles watches as Derek's eyes track one of the trails, allowing those kaleidoscope orbs to linger over Stiles' clothed member awhile too long, and can't help but smirk.

Stiles knows what he's here for. He's known since he first saw Derek upon exiting his bathroom. He always knows.

He hooks two slender fingers under Derek's chin and lifts the older man's head until their eyes meet, "my eyes are up here, big guy."

Derek rolls his eyes but an easy smile spreads across his features nonetheless.

"Do you wanna talk about it," Stiles questions, knowing that there was no need to elaborate any further.

Derek shakes his head as he wraps his arms around Stiles to pull him closer, "no talking." Then he presses a faint kiss against Stiles' stomach.

His fingers sink into the were's hair, stroking softly as he allows the following kisses until the lips travel down further, almost meeting the hem of his underwear, that's when Stiles places his hands on Derek's shoulders and lightly presses until Derek's back hits the bed.

Heated yet awaiting eyes meet his and Stiles has to use every bit of his quickly dissolving self control to not pounce on Derek immediately.

It's always hard, not allowing himself to immediately bend Derek over the nearest flat surface to take him right there every time they find themselves in this situation. Stiles would love that, he knows that Derek would love that, knows that they'd both have orgasms almost as mindblowing even if he did do that.

But he also knows what Derek needs and it's not a quick fuck. What Derek needs takes patience and care. Yes, their movements do eventually get quite erratic more often than not but that's after, that's when they're close, when they're ready to fall apart. That's not now.

Now, Stiles crawls over Derek's body, hovering over him with both hands planted by Derek's head to keep him up and steady. Derek doesn't say anything, just stares, waiting.

Stiles leans in and kisses him the way he's been wanting to since the last time they've done this, tender and warm but hard and fierce, his purpose clear. Derek yanks him down so their bodies are pressed together, lets his hair run through Stiles' dark locks and tugs lightly.

Derek kisses him like he's at the verge of death and this was his last wish, like he's desperate for it, needs nothing more, wouldn't take anything else even if he had the opportunity to, even with the dozens of opportunities a man such as himself does have.

Stiles' heart flutters knowing this, knows Derek can feel the increasing pace of the beats, knows Derek's internal reaction is the same.

He pulls away and lowers his head, Derek baring his neck almost immediately with a whimper. Stiles takes that as an invitation and presses a kiss against the skin before sucking a bruise into it, lips working even after he's sure there's a red mark evident. He laps over his work when he's done, watching it change from red to purple in a minute whereas his would in a day.

A tear once ran down Derek's cheek because he was so frustrated that seven hickeys painted his neck that night yet none of them stayed, they never did. Stiles looks up to see that same expression on his face but without the tear.

Stiles kisses him again, but on the cheek this time. He doesn't know why he does it but Derek says nothing in response, just looks at him with pleading eyes.

"Stiles, please."

"It's okay, I've got you."

He begins to undress Derek, removing article by article until the man's bare before him. He could take off his own underwear but he knows Derek won't mind if he keeps it on for awhile. His cock twitches at the remembrance of how fast Derek came when he rode Stiles in the jeep, he was wearing nothing but a tank top while Stiles remained fully clothed, doing nothing more but unzipping his jeans and pulling his underwear down below his balls to give Derek access.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers before he could even register the words in his head.

Derek smiles, his cheeks are probably a light red color right now but his beard makes it hard to see. Stiles knows that Derek is more than thankful for that. He hates when Stiles makes him blush, hates it even more when Stiles can see the evidence.

Stiles backs away slightly, only to give Derek space for his instructions, "turn over, hands and knees."

Derek complies, rolling on his hands and knees, palm flat against the dark blue sheets.

Stiles takes a moment to admire the sight before him, slender fingers running down Derek's sides and stroking when they reach his ass. He massages the globes, hears Derek's sharp intake of breath as he spreads his cheeks.

He leans forward and presses kisses against the soft skin of Derek's ass. One of his thumbs press against Derek's taint and he can't help but smirk at the whimper it encourages from the man.

"Stiles." His voice is breathy but his tone is hard, he's demanding.

The younger man hums, "yes Der?"

"Stop teasing."

"I'm not teasing. I'm giving your ass the appreciation it deserves."

He can practically hear Derek roll his eyes at the comment. "You'd be doing a hell of a lot better at that if you were actually doing something."

At this, Stiles begins to rub Derek's balls, delighted at the way the older man gasp. "I am doing something."

"Stiles—"

"What?"

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?" The hand on Derek's ass tightens, not because he's angry, because he's not, but because he's making an effort to push Derek closer to telling him what he needs.

"Stiles," Derek hisses.

"Just tell me what you want, Der, and I'll give it. Just say it."

He hears a mumbled response, a sentence with no spaces and a blunt period.

"I'm sorry, come again?"

This time Derek sighs, "eat me out," voice barely above a whisper but that's enough for Stiles.

"Good boy," he croons then presses a kiss against the back of Derek's thigh before running his tongue from Derek's balls along the crease of his ass.

Stiles isn't shy about it. He's done this before, to Derek and to others, and he loves it. He's always enjoyed rimming his partners, loves the way they moan and groan as their hips twitch at the sensation, much like Derek is doing now.

His hips stutter and circulate as he grinds back on Stiles' tongue, panting as he does so.

Stiles never fails to meet him halfway, tongue spearing into his hole with every back thrust. Stiles pulls back momentarily to press another kiss against one of Derek's cheeks then goes back to the place of interest.

He begins to alternate between rimming and caressing Derek's balls with his tongue and kissing along the back of his upper thigh and ass as he keeps him spread.

He notices the struggle as Derek remains still because he's never quite sure of what Stiles plans to do next. Derek responds all the same verbally, though, still gasping and whimpering and moaning.

Stiles grins as he pulls back and spits over Derek's hole before going to town again. Derek likes that, he likes things wet and a little messy, talks about how gross it is later but enjoys it nonetheless for the time being.

His mouth and the surrounding areas are a mess but he could care less and he doubts Derek will care much either when he moves in for a kiss after this.

Stiles moves lower and his neck strains a little at the angle that he has to twist it as he bends a little more to suck at the head of Derek's cock. The tip of his tongue dances around the area for awhile then he's trailing it along the backside, up to Derek's balls to entertain the base. He bends Derek's dick at an angle that allows him to give him a blowjob, half-assed compared to the blowjobs he usually gives but this isn't the position he's used to.

Derek was trembling, clearly having a hard time keeping himself up right given he let his arms fall as he kept his ass up but his thighs seemed like they were ready to give out too. Stiles massages his ass, working his tongue over Derek's hole in measured strokes.

"Oh my god," Derek groans, "Stiles, please, need you."

Stiles backs off and presses a kiss against his hip. He contemplates only for a brief moment if he should stop. He wants to keep going. He's spent over an hour straight on just rimming Derek before and he knows he could do it again, probably go longer but Derek has given him a request and who is he to deny him the pleasure?

Opening Derek up is easy since he's already loose and relaxed. He uses too much lube on purpose and some of it drips onto his sheets, creates a darker shade of blue than the original color. He works the man up to three then teases at a fourth and Derek grinds back, clearly wanting it, accepting what probably seems to him as a challenge.

 _Another night_.

"Do you—"

"No."

Stiles isn't surprised, they never use a condom but it's always polite to ask.

He glides a hand down Derek's side, other hand wrapped around his cock as he lubes it up. That's when he suddenly gets pushed back, legs bending until he unfolds them from underneath him to end the strain. He hardly gets a moment to register what's going before Derek is on top of him, hands placed firmly over Stiles' abdomen.

"I wanna do it like this," he says, tone a little shy compared to his previous actions.

Stiles blinks at him momentarily, doesn't even know why he isn't responding faster but nods, notices the way Derek's eyes track his bobbing Adam's apple.

"You okay?"

Stiles nods slowly, his voice is breathy, hardly a whisper as he speaks, "we've just never done it like this. It's different."

Derek grins at this, "you like different."

He does.

He opens his mouth to tell Derek as much but is bound speechless when Derek begins to sink down onto his cock, one hand still rested on Stiles as the other helps guide him.

A gasp escapes Derek's parted lips when he's completely seated and Stiles is breathless. After all this time, after the countless number of times he's had Derek like this, connected with Derek in such a way, been inside of Derek, it still never fails to leave him like this, stunned and in awe. Just knowing that Derek trusts him like this, trusts Stiles to take care of him in a state where he's vulnerable, where others have taken advantage of him. Yet he feels safe enough open up and let Stiles do this, knows he won't take advantage or harm him. And that… that means so much to Stiles that he could almost cry.

He doesn't, he can't. Not when Derek begins rolling his hips to adjust, light moans eliciting as he does so. Stiles watches, the pleasure and the sight before him almost too much. His hands slide over Derek's thighs, fingertips tightening a little to get a grip. That's when Derek begins to move.

His movements are steady at first, lifting himself then settling back leniently, but slowly, his pace begins to quicken. Soon, he's bouncing, the impact so harsh Stiles' thighs are beginning to burn with how hard Derek's ass slams against them.

He doesn't care though, he couldn't find it in himself to care even if he wanted to because it feels _so fucking good_.

Derek is clearly feeling as great as he is right now given the way his head is thrown back as panted swears mixed in with desperate moans leave his lips.

"Yeah," Stiles whispers, "take it, take what you need. Fuck, you look so beautiful. Look so fucking perfect bouncing on my cock like you own it. You do."

Derek lets out a startled whine and if his pace was harsh before, it's absolutely brutal now. He rises a little higher and settles harder, the movement of his hips sharper. It's bordering the lines of painful but he couldn't care less because _fuck_.

Stiles' focus zeroes out on everything else aside from Derek because of how good he feels at that exact moment. He watches as the sweat that builds at Derek's hairline begins to run down his skin, takes note of how his bottom lip is bruised red from how hard he's bitten it and how messy his hair has gotten over the course of the night. He looks absolutely breathtaking.

As disheveled as Derek looks, he is still the most beautiful person Stiles has ever laid his eyes upon and he feels so lucky, knowing that despite Derek not officially or indefinitely being his, he is for the moment and he is the only one Derek shares moments like this with and that, in itself, is enough to have Stiles' heart fluttering with happiness.

"Oh my god, Stiles." He says his name like a prayer and it encourages Stiles to start giving as much as he's getting, hips thrusting upward to fall in unison with Derek's own movements.

"Yes, yes, _yes_ ," Derek chants, voice hardly audible over the thick, ongoing slap of skin against skin.

Derek's hands move over his and tighten, his eyes fall shut and the crease of his brows deepen with his lips left ajar.

Stiles' breath catches in his throat and he just wants to kiss him, which is exactly what he does. He leans up momentarily to wrap his arms around Derek's waist and pulls him down as his own back hits the bed. Their lips connect within seconds and they kiss, no more frantic fucking as Stiles softly rolls his hips. He isn't sure how long they remain like that but it doesn't feel like it was long enough by the time they pull back.

They gaze at one another momentarily, Derek hovering closely, eyes a little wider. Stiles can't take it, he can't take that look of wonder that makes his heart yearn for something that Derek just may not be ready to give so he starts thrusting, keeping Derek's body down as he does so, knowing that Derek won't be able to move the way he was before.

Helpless to it, Derek drops his head and takes it, letting out faint moans, whispering into Stiles' ear about how good he feels, how good Stiles makes him feel.

Derek's wet lips press against his neck and there's an unexpected pressure of teeth when his hips make a sudden curve and that's how he knows he's nailed Derek's prostate. So he does it again and again and again until Derek's gasping for air, gripping at the sheets beside his head with nails he's sure have extended into claws.

"Fuck," Derek cries out right before Stiles feels strips of come landing on his abdomen and chest.

He fucks Derek through it, makes sure to keep him riding high for as long as he could manage and hardly waits a moment before flipping them over and chasing his own release. It doesn't take that long with Derek's words of praise as he presses a finger against his hole, it's dry and doesn't push too far but the idea is there and it's enough.

His orgasm crashes down on him so hard he begins to shake, head feeling light as stars begin to whirl around.

He feels so spent afterwards that all he can do is drop himself on top of Derek to catch his breathe.

Derek doesn't seem to mind much given he begins to stroke Stiles' hair and rub a hand down his back.

 _Yeah_ , he thinks, _I can stay like this for awhile_.

—

Long after they've recollected themselves and showered together, a shower that was more them kissing and groping than actually getting clean, that's when Derek gets up to leave.

Stiles looks over at him as he sits up on the bed, throwing his legs over the edge to stand up straight and takes his hand before he has the chance to get up.

Derek turns to look at him with curious eyes.

"Stay."

He isn't surprised when Derek quirks a brow, "that's different."

He's right, Derek's never stayed after this given they have yet to define what this is. But then again, Stiles has never asked him to stay and labels or not, he knows Derek would do just about anything he asks of him just as he'd do the same.

"Well, you like different."

Derek cracks a small smile and nods slowly, "I do."

He gets back under the covers and settles in comfortably.

They don't cuddle, Stiles didn't expect them to, but they are facing each other and Derek does take one of his hands and intertwines their fingers and that's enough.

Stiles presses one last soft, lingering kiss upon Derek's lips before he drifts off, the image of Derek's smile stamped in his mind, feeling happier than he has in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://girlmeetssterek.tumblr.com)


End file.
